For Love of a Cowboy (13 page)

“Playing hooky?”

The all-too-familiar dark and sensual voice came from right behind her, making the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.

“I’m entitled to a break,” she said, looking back at him. “It was quiet at the booth so I thought I’d try and see some of the events. You have a problem with that?”

Booth shook his head. The air between them was electric as he bent and said softly in her ear, “No, my only problem is with you. Period. Actually, it’s more what you do to me that’s the issue.”

He caught her hips in his big strong hands and pulled her backward, against his groin. She felt the insistent swell in his jeans against the curve of her buttocks. And just like that she was on fire for him all over again. He nipped softly at the curve of neck where it flared into her shoulder and then pressed his lips against the spot to soothe her skin. Instead, it had totally the opposite effect.

“How long have you got?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

“I—”

Before she could tell him that she didn’t have time for what he had in mind he’d spun her around and was kissing her, using his tongue and his lips to set her alight. Everything else faded away as he held her in his arms. When he pulled away she wanted to drag him back to her, to make him finish this crazy thing he’d started.

“We’ll get arrested if we do what it is that I want to do with you right here,” Booth said ruefully.

“Daisy,” Willow blurted.

“Daisy?”

“Yes. Mattress. Privacy. But we’ll have to be really quick.”

“Why are you standing here talking then? Let’s go.”

Willow grabbed his hand and they threaded through the throng of fairgoers. They exited into the campground area that was set apart for trailers and the like, and she weaved through the vehicles until they reached her VW near the back. She pulled open the side door and clambered inside, sliding the door closed with a solid bang as soon as Booth was inside with her.

It was hot in the van, but not as hot as the need that clawed inside her as she tugged the faded cotton curtains closed over the windows and, in the now muted light inside the van, reached for the hem of her T-shirt and yanked it off her. His hands, rough and callused, cupped her breasts the moment she was exposed, the tips of his forefingers and thumbs rolling her nipples gently between them. His mouth followed soon after. Willow bit back a cry as his lips closed over one nipple, as his tongue stroked her and as his teeth lightly rasped the sensitive skin.

“You’re going to have to be quiet if you want to avoid being arrested,” Booth said against her aching flesh.

“I’ll do my best,” she whispered, reaching for his shirt and pulling it from the waistband of his jeans.

In seconds, they were both naked and he was sheathed and positioned at her entrance. He paused a moment to look deep into her eyes before he pushed his length within her. His need for her reflected in his eyes, overwhelming her. She bit down on her lower lip as her body accommodated his every swollen inch—her inner muscles clenching around him, welcoming him.

He’d barely begun to move before her climax rushed over her and she fixed her mouth to his shoulder, desperate to hold back the scream that threatened to eject from her throat as wave after wave of pleasure racked her body. And then he was with her, his hips jerking in the final throes of orgasm as he, too, reached his peak.

Booth collapsed against her, groaning as he buried his face in her hair and nuzzled the side of her throat.

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman.”

“What a way to go,” she replied, tracing her fingertips up and down his spine.

She felt the rumble of his laughter deep in his chest and realized that while they’d been intimate together, they’d never laughed together before today. Their relationship remained a push-me-pull-you of retreat and advance, with one thing that loomed between them upon which they’d never agree.

One thing.

Oh God, she thought, shoving Booth to one side and reaching for her clothes.

“What are you doing?” he asked, eyeing her with satisfied lazy eyes.

“I’ve got to go, I’ll be late.”

“Stay,” he asked softly, his hand reaching up to cup her jaw and draw her down to him for a heart-stopping kiss.

She laughed against his mouth but then an awful thought occurred to her, making her pull away and eye him warily.

“You didn’t do this on purpose, did you?” she accused, her voice shaking.

“I beg your pardon?” Booth propped himself up on one elbow, looking at her as if she’d suddenly lost her mind.

“You
did
!” She waved a hand to encompass them both. “You did this to stop me from seeing Kyle Donovan.
How could you?
”

But she knew exactly how he could and his silence was as damning as the look on his face. Willow shook her head in denial.

“I can’t believe you’d stoop so low,” she said with loathing. “It was one thing to tell me to stay away, but to use me like that?”

Booth was pulling on his clothes and stopped in the middle of shrugging back into his shirt. “Seems we were both doing a bit of using. Besides, I told you already. I look after what’s mine,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact.

“What’s yours?” She scooted as far away from him as far as the tiny interior of the VW would let her. “What are you saying here?”

“Kyle Donovan is my uncle.”

“Your
uncle?
” Cold water ran through her veins. “Why would you keep that from me?”

“Because you’re all fired up and set to blow apart my aunt’s world without a thought to anyone but yourself. Have you even stopped to consider what it might be like for her to discover her husband had an affair? That he cheated on her with some free-loving, indiscriminate, sex-mad
hippie
?”

Was that what he really thought of her, too? Willow sat back on her heels, stunned by the vitriol in his voice. That she bandied her favors around the place? He clearly thought that of her mother, judging her without ever knowing her—and he had it all wrong. Her mother had loved her father, she knew that from the words her mom had written in her journal, and she wanted to believe her father had loved her mother, too. But had he been a married man? Was he still? Had her mother been just some fling to him, like she obviously was to Booth?

Willow felt sick to her stomach. Used. Lied to. She pushed past Booth and slid open the VW’s door just in time to fall to her knees and lose her stomach on the hard-packed dirt of the lot. She heard Booth get out the van from behind her, felt his gaze upon her for a moment.

“Go away and leave me alone,” she ground out between teeth that chattered with shock and a disappointment that went soul deep.

“Will you be okay?”

She shook her head. No. She would most definitely not be okay, but she didn’t want him anywhere near her. Not now. Not ever.

“Like you care. Just go. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

Something in the tenor of her voice must have sunk in for him because she heard his feet shift, then slowly begin to walk away. Willow staggered to her feet and leaned against the side of her van, tremors beginning to rock her body as tears fought their way to brim in her eyes and track down her cheeks.

She had to know. She had to find out if what Booth said was true.

*

Every step away
from Willow went against his instincts. He wanted to pick her up out of the dust and hold her close. He wanted to make everything all right for her. To fix her world back to what she had hoped it could be. But he couldn’t. He’d made his choice—placed his loyalty where his heart was, with the only family he’d ever known. He’d protected the woman who loved him and who had raised him as if he was her own son.

But what about his feelings for Willow? He had to force himself to admit it—the attraction he felt toward her was more than just sexual. He couldn’t stay away from her if he tried, and Lord knows he’d tried. And now he’d gone and well and truly messed up. He walked across the lot and to the general admissions parking area and found his truck. But it was a long, long time before he put the key in the ignition and started her up. And, as he drove away from the cheerful bright lights and noise of the fairground, he felt as though he was leaving a vitally important piece of himself behind.

*

Next day, Booth
was hard at work replacing a section of old post and wire fencing with a couple of his ranch hands. In the distance the house and outbuildings looked like toys to his eyes, the road leading from the long driveway a mere ribbon of blacktop as it wound back to 89 and then south toward Marietta. He loved this land—loved everything about it. Sure, it was hard work, but it was satisfying and on a day like today, with the big blue Montana sky stretched above him like a perfect canopy, who would be crazy enough to want to be anywhere else?

It was heading for lunchtime and they were about done on this stretch when one of the hands drew his attention to a cloud of dust heading along the driveway and toward the ranch house.

“Looks like the boss is getting a visitor,” he commented.

Booth lifted his head from the fence wire he’d been tensioning and looked into the distance. Aunt Emmie hadn’t mentioned they were expecting anyone today. He squinted a little against the sun, his eyes focusing on the vehicle responsible for the haze slowly beginning to settle behind it. His gut gave that uncomfortable twist and he muttered a long string of colorful expletives before throwing down his tools and swinging up into the saddle of his horse.

“Booth, something wrong?” his hand asked, pushing his hat back on his head and eyeing him with a worried frown.

“Nothing for you to worry about. You guys will have to finish up on your own. I’ll see you back at the house.”

Without waiting for a response, he wheeled his horse around and urged him down the hill and toward the house. Pegasus was fast, but if he could have sprouted wings and flown it wouldn’t have been fast enough for Booth at this moment. All the way he kept asking himself what he could have done to stop the inevitable showdown that was undoubtedly playing out right now. He just hoped to hell and back that his Aunt Emmie didn’t get wind of it. If she did, everything he’d done would have been an absolute waste. He’d have destroyed his chance of ever finding out if he and Willow could have discovered a future together for nothing.

Daisy was parked out front of the house by the time he got there. After leaving Pegasus tied to the rail by the stables, Booth barely took the time needed to wipe his boots before he strode into the house, his ears cocked for the sound of argument or, worse, weeping. But the house appeared to be silent, tranquil even. He moved through toward his uncle’s office, where Uncle Kyle had been planning to work on budgets today. A murmur of voices came through the heavy wooden door.

Booth didn’t hesitate or even knock, he barged right in, his eyes searching the room, settling first on his uncle, then his aunt and finally on Willow. She sat in a chair opposite his uncle, who presided in his leather button-back chair behind his desk. Aunt Emmie stood resolutely at his side, one hand on her husband’s shoulder—very clearly presenting a united front.

“I thought I told you to stay away,” Booth said to Willow. Frustration at not having been able to prevent this oozed from every pore of his body.

“Booth, it’s okay. Take a seat,” his aunt urged in her quiet voice.

How could it be okay? But even as he asked himself the question he realized how strong his aunt looked at that moment. She certainly didn’t have the look of a woman about to collapse under the strain of what she’d just heard. In fact, if anything, there was a powerful streak of compassion in her eyes. He turned his attention to his uncle, who looked uncomfortable, yet resolute.

Then, Booth looked at Willow. Her slender shoulders had slumped forward, and her hands trembled in her lap. She lifted her gaze to his and the emptiness there, as if her last hope on earth had just been wrenched away from her, shocked him to his core.

She stood, and Booth and his uncle automatically rose with her, then she stumbled to the door. Booth remained paralyzed, rooted where he stood until he heard the seldom-used front door slam and the sound of the VW’s engine starting up.